Just like Thelma and Louise
by Agentfitzskimmons
Summary: Skimmons as killers AU. Skye is running from her abusive ex, Jemma right by her side. What happens when he catches up with them? Bonus Fitzward.
1. Prologue

**Story belongs to me, characters don't.**

**Warnings: Story contains violence, offensive language and mentions of rape (nothing graphic) **

**I have 3 chapters written and will upload them, I'm posting now so I can be motivated to continue this story. I have a bunch of other wips too, so expect more from me. I'll write most ships from AoS so feel free to prompt me. Anyway, on to the story!**

**Thanks for reading! **

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**Prologue. **

It was a muggy afternoon, the heat prickling the skin of the woman sitting in the chair in the corner of the small motel room. She was tired, but full of adrenaline at the same time. Who knew killing someone really took it out of you. They made it seem so easy in the movies. But in reality it was anything but. She figured the stifling heat had some affect on her bone weary state.

She was sure taking someones life was meant to have more of an affect on her than it did, wasn't she supposed to feel remorseful or scared or anything that would indicate that what she'd taken part in was not okay? She had helped kill a man. She shouldn't be sitting there reliving it and wanting to do it again. This wasn't normal, but she didn't care, she had a taste for it now and it made her feel more alive than anything ever had before. Ironic really, what with a dead body just inches from her, laying on the floor at the foot of the bed, blood pooling underneath it.

She stood up and stretched, putting the bloody knife she was still holding on the dresser beside her. Walking towards the bathroom, she stopped just outside the doorway, knocking lightly on the doorframe, watching as the other woman tried to scrub the blood from her hands and arms.

They didn't speak, just locked eyes and went back to focusing on the water mixing with blood in the grimy sink. They hadn't planned any of this, murdering him wasn't something they'd even thought about, at least not seriously anyway. There were times she'd thought about it. Every time her friend came to her in the middle of the night crying, a new bruise fresh on her face or arms. She hated him. From the moment she met him she'd never trusted him. She'd wanted him to pay for the things he'd done, wanted him behind bars where he belonged because she knew it was just a matter of time before he killed her best friend.

But, as it turns out, they had killed him.

Better him than them, she reasoned. Technically it was self defense, he came at them, drunk and angry, yelling about how they were dyke bitches and he was going to kill them both.

She turned to face the room, thinking that they needed to get out of there. But they had a lot to do before they could. They needed to clean up and then get as far away from this cheap, dirty motel room as they could. She didn't hear the water shut off or notice the other person standing next to her until they spoke.

"We need to get out of here."

She nodded her head in the affirmative. "We have to clean up first. Strip the whole room, the body, everything."

She started looking around the small space. Her nose scrunching up in disgust as the smell of the blood drying in the heat assaulted her senses. They needed to hurry.

"Okay...uhm, we can't go out and get trash bags so we're going to have to use the sheet from the bed and just bundle everything up in that." She looked over at the other woman who was just standing there watching her pace as she tried to think of all the things they had to do.

"Come on, help me."

They got to work, very little else was said. Just instructions on what to do.

Strip the bed; pillowcases, comforter, all of it. Pile it up in the middle of the sheet. Next, the body. Take off all of his clothes, his shoes, watch, and anything else he had on him.

Empty his wallet first. They'd need the cash. Take his keys. Add everything else to the pile. Take the knife to the bathroom, clean it, add it to the pile.

Grab the towels, use them to wipe down every single surface. The headboard, the doors, lamps, the TV, the dresser drawers, inside and out, door knobs and handles.

Empty the trash can into the pile too. Then wipe that down. Clean the bathroom. Put the towels on the pile.

Carry the now naked body into the tub, turn on the shower and let it wash away as much blood and evidence as it could.

"We're not going to be able to get rid of everything, they'll find something here, but we aren't going to make it easy for them."

Carrying the body was not easy. He was heavy. Literal dead weight. But they managed.

There wasn't much they could do about the blood on the floor. Other than try and destroy any evidence of them both by covering it with cleaning products from the bathroom. Hopefully it would work. After that, they packed up all of their stuff, they didn't have much, a few changes of clothes, toiletries, stuff like that.

They tied the sheet and carried it to the door. They had to wait for it to get dark and then one of them would go out, get the car and pop the trunk so they could throw it inside. Then they'd climb in and drive away. Dump it somewhere, burn the stuff in the trunk, and the clothes they were wearing.

She knew they were both way too calm about this. Neither one of them was upset or unable to do any of the things they needed to. They just got on with it, working in tandem like they'd done stuff like this everyday.

They barely spoke while working, but they did catch each others eyes a lot, and she knew with each look that they were both on the same page. They both felt the rush, the power. They both had enjoyed what they had done on some level. They both knew it wasn't a normal reaction. They knew that no matter what, they were in this thing together.

That they would now have to go on the run.

Leave their old lives behind. Friends, family, work, everything. They knew and they didn't care. They had each other. They could survive. They knew their lives were about to get radically different. Killing someone changes everything, they knew.

And they knew they were going to do it again.


	2. Chapter 1

**One week earlier.**

Jemma had just gotten back from another disastrous date. Why was it so hard to find a decent date these days? Are there no eligible women left in LA. She took out her keys ready to open her door, but before she could get the key in the lock, the door sprang open, and there on the other side stood her roommate. Her excitable, like a puppy, bouncing on his feet roommate.

"So. How was it, was it great? She was great wasn't she? I bet you had a wonderful time. I told you I'd find you the perfect woman. Huh, didn't I tell you? When are you going to see her again?" He stood there grinning at her, his little face full of pride and excitement, waiting for her to tell him how much she enjoyed the date.

"It was..fine. She was fine."

He scoffed. "Fine? Wine is fine, Jemma. And bloody disgusting I might add. Alison is not fine. She's..she's perfect and-and funny and smart. Okay, not you and I smart, but smart nonetheless."

Jemma just rolled her eyes, sitting down to take off her shoes, oh how her feet were killing her. She hated heels.

"If you like her so much, you go out with her."

She rubbed the bottom of her feet, sighing in pleasure, all she wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep for the next 12 hours or so.

Fitz sat down on the coffee table in front of her, "She's a lesbian, Jemma. I really don't think I'm her type. What was so wrong with her anyway? Too charming, too pretty? Oh, wait, was it her impeccable manners and her ability to hold a stimulating conversation."

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Psh. Fine." He grumbled before moving over to the couch and bringing her feet into his lap so he could rub them for her.

She lay back, her eyes slipping shut as Fitz's fingers worked on her feet. "Thank you. And it wasn't her, not really. We just didn't click you know? There was no spark. There wasn't really anything. To be honest I think we were both bored."

Fitz looked at her and when she finally opened her eyes to acknowledge him, he spoke. "Do you ever stop to think you might be the problem and not the women you go out with?"

Jemma gasped in shock and dug her heel into his stomach, smirking slightly when he let out a grunt of pain. "You take that back right now Leopold Fitz! I am perfectly sweet and charming when out on a date. I am positively delightful!"

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her, "Positively delightful. Right." He drew out the last word, earning another foot to the gut. "Ow! Jemma that hurts."

"That's the point Fitz."

Before they could start arguing more, there was a manic knocking at the door. They both looked at each other, puzzled, it was almost midnight, who the hell could that be? They stood up together, Fitz grabbing Jemmas hand as they made their way to the door.

They put the safety chain on and then slowly opened the door, their heads peering out, Jemmas on top, Fitz underneath her. The person on the other side of the door turned around and, in any other situation would have laughed at the sight of them. But instead, she stood there crying, and shivering even though it wasn't cold out.

"Skye?" Jemma questioned and quickly closed the door and unhooked the chain so she could open it fully and let their friend in. "Skye, what's going on, what's wrong?" Jemma had ushered Skye into the apartment while Fitz locked up.

"They let him out." She sunk down into an armchair, holding her head in her hands. "He came by, he was drunk again. He started yelling and throwing things.." She took a breath and looked at Jemma with watery eyes. "I can't escape him, Jem. He's always going to find me."

Jemma moved to sit at Skye's side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Did he hurt you?" Skye nodded and then burst into tears again, burying her face in Jemma's side.

Jemma tightened her grip and held the girl as she cried. She looked over to Fitz who was standing just behind Jemma, his jaw working because of him grinding his teeth. The only noticeable way Jemma knew he was angry.

Beyond angry really. She was too. But according to Fitz she was what he called a scary angry. She was calm but underneath she was coiled and ready to strike. She'd never liked Ian Quinn. He was a smarmy, egotistical, violent criminal. Jemma once walked in on him beating Skye, he'd had her by the hair and had dragged her around like a ragdoll, threw her to the floor and kicked her.

Jemma had pepper sprayed him and called the police. After that, Skye and Jemma had packed up Skyes things and she stayed with Jemma and Fitz for a little while until she found herself a place. But he found her. He always did. And every time he did he either trashed the place or beat her or worse. And right now Jemma knew by Skye's reaction that this could be categorized as worse.

Ian Quinn had been locked up three months ago for drug possession, he wasn't supposed to be out yet. In those three months Skye had moved four times. His friends always found her, or she'd feel like she was being watched. Every time something happened they'd call the police. They'd come take a statement and assure them they'd do everything they could. They soon discovered that everything was nothing. They could never pin anything on Ian Quinn. Nothing would stick, he was that slippery. One detective wanted to nail him though. He'd been after him for a while for gunning down a teenage boy. So whenever they called 911, he eventually showed up.

And that's what happened an hour or so later when the police had took statements and then took Skye to the hospital for a rape kit.

Jemma had went in with her, as well as the female cop that had responded to their call. Fitz was outside pacing the hallway and annoying the the other cop who was waiting for his partner.

"Sir? Please, maybe you should have a seat."

Fitz stopped mid pace and turned to face the officer. "A seat? How the hell am I supposed to sit at a time like this? My friend is in there, being made to relive her attack. Again! She's gone through it three times already and now they're doing god knows what to her and you want me to have a seat?!"

The officer put his hand on Fitz's shoulder and looked down at him, softening his voice. "Look I know this is a rough time, everything we're doing is to help." Fitz shrugged the hand of off his shoulder and stepped back. "Great job you're doing. Letting a convicted felon back on to the streets." Before he could get himself in trouble, someone cleared their throat behind him, gaining his attention.

"Detective Ward?"

Grant Ward was a Detective in the Robbery-Homicide division. He was tall with slick dark hair, and a face that bore little to no emotion. Sometimes his façade would crack and you could see the emotions swirling in his dark eyes. He was broad shouldered, and obviously worked out. Skye once described him as firm. Fitz agreed with her. He also agreed that he was incredibly attractive.

Jemma on the other hand, thought he looked like the stereotypical tough guy cop that was on every police procedural show on TV. Which Skye and Fitz had to agree, he kind of was. They joked about it a lot. But they also knew Grant Ward was a lot more than just a tough guy cop. He was the guy that helped them, listened to them. And wanted Quinn off the streets just as much as they did. They'd grown to care for him and he them.

"Mr. Fitz. How about me and you go get some fresh air." It wasn't a question, Fitz knew. Grant was giving him a chance to pull himself together before he said or did something to land himself in trouble. Without a word, Fitz trudged along behind Ward until they were outside of the hospital.

"What the hell was that in there. Are you trying to get yourself arrested?" Ward towered above him, glowering, waiting for Fitz to speak.

"I-no. I just.." He trailed off and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll apologize, everything is just a mess right now. Why is he out Grant?"

There weren't many people Ward let call him Grant. He could count on one hand the people who did; His mom, though he never really spoke to her much, his grandmother, who he visited every weekend, his boss, though she rarely did, and now apparently, Leo Fitz.

"He's out on probation. I've already spoken to his parole officer, we're gonna pick him up at his next appointment. He won't get away with this Leo. I promise. He's not going to hurt her ever again."

Grant leaned his shoulder against the wall, his arms folded across his broad chest. Fitz nodded in understanding, and sighed. "I hope you're right. I don't want to think about what could happen if he ever gets to her again."

Ward knew all too well what could and probably would happen if Quinn ever got his hands on Skye again. He was determined not to let that happen. "Come on, let's go see what's going on. Then I'll drive you guys home."


	3. Chapter 2

After leaving the hospital, Skye asked Ward if they could stop by her place so she could pick up some of her things. Ward agreed, but before he let her in he went through the small house, checking each room, cupboard, and even under the bed. Once he was satisfied it was clear, he let Skye and Jemma in while he and Fitz waited outside.

Skye headed to her bedroom to start packing her clothes. Jemma followed behind, taking in the damage around her, furniture was overturned, there was broken glass and different ornaments and papers strewn across the floor. There was a hole in the wall the size of a fist. Not to mention all the finger print dust and other things the police and crime scene technicians had left behind.

Once they were in the bedroom she helped Skye pack. They then made their way through the rest of the house grabbing things she might need.

"He's not going to stop is he? Not until he kills me."

Jemma put down the broken picture of her, Skye, and Fitz and moved towards her friend.

"That's not going to happen Skye. They're going to have him in custody soon and then they'll lock him up forever."

Skye laughed humorlessly. "Come on Simmons, you can't really believe that. This is Ian Quinn we're talking about. He knows they're looking for him. There's no way he'll turn up at the parole office. He's gone. But he'll be back."

Jemma knew she was right. Quinn was in hiding, waiting and planning. The police weren't going to find him. Not today. And probably not any time soon. "We'll figure something out Skye. You'll be safe. I promise."

Skye just shrugged as if to say "We'll see" and grabbed a couple of bags, making her way to the front of the house where the guys were waiting for them.

A few days later, Jemma was in her room, writing a paper for one of her classes when Skye knocked on her door and walked in. She looked run down, Jemma knew all of this was taking a toll on the other girl.

The police still hadn't found Ian, and there was a police officer stationed outside of the apartment most nights, and patrol cars would drive around the neighbourhood every few hours. But still, it hadn't settled Skye's fears. She knew he'd turn up sooner or later, and she didn't want to be here when he did.

She sat at the edge of Jemma's bed and ran her hand over the comforter. Jemma just watched her, waiting. She didn't have to wait long, Skye looked up and met her eyes. "I need to disappear. I can't stay here and wait for him to come. I have to leave. I have to go where he can't find me."

Jemma got up from her desk and sat next to Skye, taking her hand and holding it in both of hers. "I told you I'd do anything I possibly could to make this easier on you, to help you. But I can't just let you leave on your own Skye. I won't."

"I can't stay here Jemma. I can't. I hate this. I hate that you and Fitz are involved. He could hurt you to get to me and I can't let that happen. It would hurt me more than he ever has if something happened to you because of me."

They sat there staring at each other. Skye pleading with Jemma to let her do what she needed to. After a few minutes of silence Jemma blew out a breath and scooted closer to the younger girl. "If you do this, you don't do it alone. I come with you.."

Before Skye could interrupt, Jemma held up a hand "No Skye, this isn't a debate. I come with you. We leave, go to a motel or something, we use cash, not credit cards, we leave our phones, just take what we have to and we stay away until he's caught and locked up."

Skye didn't argue, it was pointless, Jemma had made up her mind and that was that. She just nodded and said okay. For the rest of the night they made plans, working out where to go, how much money they'd need, who they should tell, if anyone. They both agreed that Fitz should know that they were leaving for a while, but not anything more. The less he knew the better. It was safer for him that way. Once they were out of town and settled somewhere, they'd call him to let him know they were okay.

As they'd expected, Fitz didn't take the news well. After a lot of yelling and hand gesturing, he finally calmed down enough to listen to their plan, and reluctantly agreed.

He didn't think it was a good idea and he told them so, but he understood that Skye needed to do this. And he understood that Jemma couldn't let her do it alone. He made them promise that they'd stay in touch and let him know what was happening, and he promised the same thing in regards to Ian Quinn and if the police were any closer to finding him.

They all cried and hugged and fell asleep in a bundle of arms and legs on the small couch.

The next morning Fitz helped them pack their stuff into Jemma's small car.

They hugged and cried some more and he gave them more money, they'd refused but he'd insisted. "Just be careful and take care of each other."

Jemma hugged him one more time and smiled. "We will, Fitz." She let go, kissed him on the cheek and got into her car, Skye already in the passenger seat. Fitz stood at the drivers side door and bent down to look in at them. "Stay safe and remember to call me. I love you both."

Skye wiped the tears from her face and smiled warmly at him. "We love you too monkey boy. We'll call as soon as we can." Jemma nodded her agreement and before he shut the door, Fitz grumbled about his nickname, which made the girls giggle. He grinned and pushed the door closed.

He lay his palm flat against his heart and then moved it to lie flat against the window. Jemma put her hand up to mirror his and Skye blew him a kiss. Then they drove off. Watching their best friend get smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, until they couldn't see him anymore.

They'd been on the road for a few hours before they decided to stop and get some food. They pulled up to a small diner, there were only two cars in the small parking lot so they figured it'd be quiet and they could ask if there were any motels close by.

After exiting the car they made their way into the diner. It smelled like fried food and stale sweat and Jemma had to stop herself from gagging. The woman behind the counter welcomed them and told them to grab a seat and she'd be right with them. The other patrons didn't even glance in their direction.

They sat in a booth and looked over the menus. Jemma scrunching her nose up as she read the options. Skye watched her, smiling, she loved that nose scrunch.

The waitress soon came over and took their order. Skye hummed before making her choice. "I think I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with fries, and a chocolate shake please." She smiled up at the waitress as she wrote her order. Jemma ordered the same except in place of the shake she got a coffee. The only tea they served was iced tea and Jemma was not a fan.

"I can't believe that I'm considering eating food from this place." She picked up a napkin and started rubbing away the sticky goo that was on the table while Skye played with the sugar packets.

Skye just laughed and told her it wasn't so bad. Jemma scoffed and went back to cleaning the table. The waitress came back with their orders and they thanked her, before she walked away, Skye asked her if she knew of any motels in the area. "Sure honey, there's one just a couple miles down the road. Doesn't get many visitors so there should be rooms free. You girls on a road trip or somethin'" She asked, feigning interest.

Skye glanced across the table at Jemma and then nodded. "Yeah." The waitress smiled and told them to let her know if they needed anything else, then she was off, seeing to her other customers.

An hour later they were settled in their tiny motel room. The place was old and falling apart, one of the numbers on the door was missing so it read 084. The room itself was pretty barren. It had a dresser with a small TV set sitting on the top, a double bed in the center of the room, a chair in the far corner next to the dresser, a bedside table with a lamp, and a trash can. The floor was covered in a thin, worn carpet, it had so many different stains they couldn't tell what the original color was. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls and was a nicotine yellow. The bed was covered in an old, faded green sheet and a hideous brown and green floral type comforter and two pillows with the same design on the covers. The bathroom was even smaller. The sink and tub covered in grime.

"Well..this is..nice." Jemma was doing the nose thing again.

"Yeah, nice if you wanna be murdered by some masked crazy and his mother then served as supper." Skye said.

Jemma ignored her comment and threw their bags onto the bed. "I saw a pay phone outside, I'm going to call Fitz and let him know we're stopping for the night and will get in touch with him in couple of days."

Skye saluted her and fell back onto the bed. After calling Fitz, Jemma came back in to see Skye sleeping. She let her rest and unpacked their things they'd need for the night and tomorrow morning, then sat in the chair and read the book she had packed.

She couldn't remember falling asleep, but she must have because she was startled awake by the door to the room slamming shut. Skye shot up off the bed and came to stand beside Jemma who had jumped to her feet when she saw the figure across from her. Their hands found each others and they linked their fingers. Jemma moved to stand a little bit in front of Skye, blocking her from Ian's hateful gaze. He must have been following them.

She noticed it was almost light outside. They'd slept a lot longer than she'd realized.

"You really think you can hide from me, bitch? You should know by now that you can't escape from me. I own you."

Jemma tensed at his words. Skye just stood there, a strange look on her face. She didn't look afraid or angry or anything. She looked blank. Jemma had never seen that look on her face before. It made her steel herself. She knew nothing good was going to happen, and she'd do whatever she could to keep Skye safe. Though right now Skye looked more frightening than Ian did.

Ian stepped closer, sneering at them, anger crossing his features as he took in their joined hands. Jemma could smell the alcohol on him. He reeked of it. His eyes were bloodshot, he had a five o'clock shadow and he was unsteady on his feet. His hands were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white with the strain.

Jemma stood taller and pulled her shoulders back. She wasn't scared of Ian Quinn, though she knew she should be. But he'd ever frightened her. He disgusted her. She'd never hated anyone before but then she'd met him, and she finally understood what it was to hate. She could feel it run through her. Bile rose in her throat just at the thought of him. That's one reason she knew how much she despised the man. The physical reaction her body had to him. Her skin felt like it was literally crawling, trying to get away from the toxic dirtbag that Ian Quinn was.

"Get the hell out of here." She growled. Shocking not only Skye but herself at the low, hate filled words that broke from her throat.

Ian threw his head back and laughed. Then suddenly he lunged at them, grabbing Jemma and throwing her to the floor before reaching for Skye and pinning her to the wall, his hand around her throat, squeezing. Skye sputtered and tried to breath but she couldn't. He was yelling at her, his face just centimeters from hers, the alcohol on his breath making her wince, his spit landing on her face as he cursed and shouted at her.

The next thing she knew she was free from him, taking in big gulps of air.

Ian fell to the floor with a howl of pain holding his groin, Jemma standing behind him. She reached out for Skye but before she could grab her Ian was back up and had a knife pointed at Jemma. She heard Skye gasp no from behind Ian.

She had no doubts that he would use the knife. She knew he intended to hurt her, maybe even kill her, but she was too angry to be afraid of that fact. If Fitz could see her now, scary angry would be like sunshine and bunny rabbits right now. What she was feeling was beyond anything she'd ever felt before.

Before she knew it both her and Skye attacked at the same time. Skye Jumping on his back as he wildly swung the blade in Jemma's direction. Jemma herself had sidestepped him and grabbed his hair pulling until she ripped a chunk out and he cried out in pain. Cursing them all the while, telling them they were dead.

Skye dug her nails into his face, clawing at his eyes, he dropped the knife and Jemma picked it up and held it to his throat. He was on his knees now, eyes streaming, and blood running down his cheek. Skye was still on his back.

He lunged forward and knocked Jemma to the floor, the knife nicking his neck, the blood running into his shirt collar. He scrambled on top of jemma, fighting her for the knife while Skye punched and kicked at him, trying to get him off of the other girl.

Jemma still had a strong grip on the knife and she struck at him, feeling the blade sink into his shoulder, she pulled it out and stabbed at him again this time getting him in the arm. He managed to knock the knife out of her hand and grappled with her on the floor. The three of them struggling and covered in blood, most of it his.

Jemma managed to crawl out from underneath him, grabbing the knife as she did. She stood up on shaky legs and let out a mangled scream holding the knife above her head and bringing it down in an arc getting him in the chest. Everything went quiet then. Jemma stood in front of Ian, who was looking at the knife in his chest with a confused look on his face. Skye had climbed off his back and stood off to the side, her face blank once again.

"Y-you stabbed me!" Ian said in disbelief. He grabbed the knife and pulled it out, never once breaking eye contact with Jemma. But he couldn't keep a tight enough grip on it and dropped it to the floor, blood was pouring from his wounds and he looked pale.

Without a second thought, Skye reached down, grabbed the knife and started stabbing him, he didn't make a noise, he just fell forward and lay still as Skye plunged the knife into his back over and over.

Jemma finally stopped her and pulled her off of him. He was dead. They'd killed him. It was over. She took the knife from Skye and they stood there, Skye covered in his blood.

"I'm going to go clean up." Was all she said before she headed to the bathroom. Jemma watched her go and sat down in the chair. She let out a short laugh.

"Bloody hell"


	4. Chapter 3

Present day.

Jemma sat looking at the clock, it was dark now but still pretty early. She didn't want to go out to the car just yet. Skye was pacing and chewing on her thumbnail. The adrenalin was starting to wear off.

"Maybe we can just call Detective Ward, tell him it was self defence."

Jemma looked at Skye and waited for her to stop pacing. "Maybe at first it was. But we can't say that now. Not after cleaning up and trying to hide what we did."

She shrugged and slowly moved her eyes toward the bathroom. "Plus, you really went at him for a while first one or two stab wounds, we might have gotten away with it, but not as many as there are now. It'd be classed as overkill. We'd go to prison."

Skye's shoulders drooped and she mumbled out an apology to her best friend. "I didn't mean to get you involved in my drama and now I've ruined both our lives." She tried to look like she was sorry for what she had done, but she couldn't, she wasn't. And she knew Jemma wasn't either.

"You don't have to apologize, Skye. And there's no way I'd let you go through any of this alone. It's you and me against the world now."

Skye smiled and relaxed a little. "Just like Thelma and Louise?" Jemma grinned, and nodded yes. "Yeah. Just like Thelma and Louise."

A few hours later, Jemma decided it was late enough and quiet enough to head to the car and get out of there. She helped Skye carry everything out and put it in the trunk, then she went to Ian's car, unlocked it and opened his glove compartment.

Inside there was a gun, and three spare magazines, not including the fully loaded one already in the gun. It looked a lot like the one Detective Ward had. He'd called it a Walther P99 semi-automatic pistol.

She checked the rest of the car and found a small brown bag underneath the drivers seat, she opened it, her eyes widening. There had to be at least $20,000 in there. She took the gun and the spare ammo and dropped them into the bag. Then she quickly wiped the car down, hoping she'd wipe away her prints.

She closed the door and wiped the handle down before quickly getting into her car and driving away.

"What's in the bag?" Skye asked, looking at Jemma as she drove out of sight of the motel. Jemma didn't say anything, just handed the bag over, she heard Skye whisper out a whoa, and chuckled.

"I know, right? We should be okay for a while, as long as we don't get stopped before we can get rid of the car."

Skye folded the top of the bag closed and left it on her lap. "We should head for Texas."

Jemma looked over at the other girl, "What's in Texas?" She asked as she focused back on the road.

"A friend. He can help us. Let us stay with him until we figure out what to do. He can help us disappear if that's what we want." Skye answered, yawning as she did.

Jemma thought about it for a minute and decided it was probably a good idea. But first they needed to get rid of the car and..everything else.

"Okay. Texas it is. It'll take us a while to get there, we could drive straight through, but it'd be dangerous. And we might not even find a car straight away. So I suggest we drive tonight and find somewhere to dump the car, and then find somewhere we can clean up and get some rest."

They drove for another two hours or so, until they found an old abandoned junkyard. They'd stopped at a gas station a good few miles back to get snacks and gas, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Making sure there were no cameras around, Jemma turned off her lights and drove slowly through the huge yard, filled with rusty and decaying vehicles and other garbage and household appliances. It was dark and eerily quiet. But best of all it was out of the way. They'd be able to dump the car, burn it, and get away before anyone noticed the flames or the smoke. If it got noticed at all.

Once they were a few blocks away from the burning car, they started to notice more activity. There were people about, some drunk or high, others keeping to themselves as they shuffled through the dark streets.

Jemma and Skye huddled together, their heads down. They didn't want anyone noticing them. As they turned a corner, they were happy to see more signs of life. They were on a main street, a few lights dotted about illuminating their path. Most of the street lights were broken. But it didn't stop the working girls on the street from doing their thing. As they were passing a group, a heavy set woman in a mini skirt and tube top with bright red lipstick sticking to her teeth and smeared around her lips, stopped them.

"You girls lost?" She drawled, raising a thin eyebrow, and smirking as she did.. It was hard for Jemma to place her accent, her speech was slurred and she had a cigarette dangling from her mouth.

"Must be, don't see no girlies like you two 'round here much. I'd 'member. I'm good with faces. Right ladies?"

She turned to the group of women behind her and they all clicked their tongues and made various noises of affirmation. "Sure is, Janette." One of them called. She was thin, bone thin and it wasn't hard to see she was a frequent drug user. Probably methamphetamine by the looks of her.

"We're just looking for somewhere to rest and eat. We don't know the area.." Jemma said, keeping her head held high and her eyes on the woman in front of her.

Janette laughed and immediately started hacking, her cigarette falling from her lips. Once she regained her composure, she took another smoke from inside her top, and lit up. "This ain't Bethlehem darlin', ain't nowhere for folk like you here. We ain't got no room at the inn. Unless you're looking to do a bit of work?"

Jemma shook her head frantically. "No! No no no...W-we just, our car broke down and.." She was cut off by another burst of laughter this time from most of the women. One of them didn't seem interested at all and spent most of the time texting on her phone.

Janette wheezed and put her hand on Jemmas shoulder. "I'm playin' with you kid. These streets would eat a couple of babies like you up. This ain't no place for you girls to be wandering around. People is dangerous out here. You girls is ripe for the pickin'"

"I'm sure we'll be fine. Now if you wouldn't mind, we'd like to be on our way." As jemma was about to pass the women, Skye right next to her, she was suddenly stopped by a wall of flesh. All six women stood there, looking hard at them, their eyes glazed and their fruity and floral perfume mixing, causing a sickly sweet smell that made both girls gag more than the blood back at the motel did.

"I don't think so. You have somethin' I want." Janette snapped. The smile suddenly gone from her face. Now her mouth was twisted in an ugly sneer and she moved to stand in front of the two of them. "You ain't goin' nowhere 'til you pay the fee."

"Fee?" Jemma laughed out.

"Mhmm, hundred bucks a piece." One of the other women said. "Hundred and fifty." Janette corrected and moved closer into their personal space. Skye, who had been quiet through the whole exchange, rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"This is ridiculous. Do we look like we have money?"

She pointed between her and Jemma and continued talking. "You think we'd be here, wherever the hell here is if we had money? You ain't that smart is you Big J." She mocked.

Jemma looked at Skye in surprise, a grin breaking across her face. It was quickly wiped off when Janette punched the other girl right in the face. Skye fell back with the force but was held up by one of the girls behind her.

Before another punch could be thrown. Skye spit blood out of her mouth and growled. "Bitch, you will regret that." The bigger woman lunged for Skye but Jemma jumped in front of her, gun drawn. "One more move and I put one right between you eyes." She was calm and held the gun out in front of her like she'd done it a million times before and this wasn't the first time.

Skye watched in awe as Janette, still angry and looking like she wanted to rip them limb from limb with her bare hands, take a step back, her hands in the air. The rest of the group had scattered at the sight of the gun. She turned to look at Jemma, who stood there, calm and strong. A determined look on her face. And something else Skye couldn't decipher. She wiped at her lip, which was still bleeding and swelling, wincing as the rough material of her shirt rubbed against the wound.

Jemma was livid. How dare this this woman raise her hand to Skye. How dare she mark that perfect, beautiful face. How dare she hurt her friend. Her friend who had been hurt enough by people who thought they could push people around without thought or consequence.

"Oh Janette. I never wanted it to come to this, but I'm afraid you just forced my hand." She sighed and looked to Skye again. Her eyes losing all their warmth for the other girl and hardening into a cold unreadable stare that she aimed back at the prostitute in front of her.

"You see, Jan. Can I call you Jan?" She didn't wait for an answer, just carried on talking.

"You did the one thing I can't and won't abide. You hurt my friend here. You made her bleed. And now I'm mad." She shrugged, and squeezed her finger a little more on the trigger. "I know, I know, I don't sound all that mad, but trust me, I am seething with anger. So now I have to kill you."

Janette just looked at Jemma, a blank look on her face. Raising an eyebrow she turned to Skye and asked. "Is this crazy bitch for real?"

Skye stiffened at the slur. Jemma was anything but crazy or a bitch. She was the best person Skye knew.

"Here's a tip, She-Hulk, when someone is pointing a gun at you, it's best not to call them a crazy bitch. And yes, unfortunately for you, she is deadly serious."

The street was empty now, and darker. The other girls had disappeared. The only signs of life was from a 7/11 a bit further down the road. Where all the street lamps worked. At this end of the street it was pitch dark. And they were alone. Janette took another step back.

Jemma smiled apologetically.

"Yes, I'm afraid I am rather serious." And with that she pulled the trigger.

The noise was almost deafening, She didn't realise it would be that loud, or powerful. Her ears were ringing and her arm was tingling. She blew out a breath and looked down at Janette, sprawled on the pavement in front of her, blood seeping from the bullet wound that entered her face just under her right eye. Janette was still breathing, all be it raggedly, she was trying to move, to get away maybe, but she couldn't.

Jemma felt Skye's hand hold onto hers before she realized Skye was taking the gun. She watched as the shorter girl picked up the spent cartridge and then moved to stand directly over the wounded woman. Without speaking Skye pulled the trigger. She shot Janette through the head and all movements stopped. Then she flicked on the safety and put the gun in the waistband of her pants, picked up the cartridge, grabbed Jemma's hand and took off running.

Neither one of them looked back. Just carried on on their way. Looking for somewhere to sleep. Eventually they found a motel,they paid for a room and got some snacks from the vending machines. Jemma grabbed some ice for Skyes lip and they headed inside their room. After eating and showering, they both sleepily climbed into bed. The gun tucked under Jemma's pillow. They said goodnight and before long they were both falling into a much needed sleep.

The events of the previous night and today exhausting them.

Tomorrow they'd look for a car and start their journey to Texas.


End file.
